


The First Encounter

by lureavi



Series: Cohabitors and Co-conspirators [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pidge and Keith are troublemakers, Shatt, Shiro and Matt are Adults TM, Slow Burn, The younger ones are in high school, they're all idiots, they're all slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-14 09:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16489892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lureavi/pseuds/lureavi
Summary: With Keith and Shiro's parents out of the picture, and the Holt parents deployed overseas, Matt and Shiro have stepped up to take care of their two younger siblings together. As totally platonic domestic partners, only for the tax benefits, really. They insist. Their younger siblings have quickly bonded over their love of cryptids and conspiracies, and started their own Youtube channel dedicated to it.What could go wrong?





	1. Meet the "Family"

**Author's Note:**

> This AU was crafted during a SIX HOUR LONG road trip with me and @windedleaves on tumblr a few months ago, and I've been sitting on these written fics for a long time now. I figure some people might enjoy them, and there's DEFINITELY enough of the AU planned out to continue it if that's the case!  
> Note: The first chapter is mostly set-up on the "family situation," chapter 2 is more eventful.

Keith pushed his finger against the lens of the small camera pointed at him. Or at least, he was told it was a camera. In reality, it was a strange cube with far too many blinking lights, a large round lens on the front, and a preview screen occupying the entire back panel.  “Are you SURE this thing is on?” He asked, exasperated by how long he and his step-sister (not really step-sister at all as Shiro pointed out on the regular) had spent setting up the attic to film. First, they had to get rid of a decade’s worth of cobwebs. Then, they had to find a place for all six boxes of Christmas lights that Matt insisted on creating a spectacle with every year. Then, they had to set up a green screen about twice their heights. Then, they had to explain to Shiro why they hauled an old wooden desk into the house from the dump 2 miles down the road, and why on Earth they hadn’t at least hosed it off before bringing it inside.

Pidge claimed that the mysterious, green sludge and pungent smell clinging to the old thing added charm.

Shiro begged to differ. The desk now smelled strongly of lemon and bleach, and turned out to be several shades lighter than anyone had expected.

But all of the hard work was done now. At least, for Keith it was. Pidge was still fidgeting with a homemade tripod that was at least 30% duct tape, “Yes, it's on, and if it wasn’t, smudging the lens I just cleaned wouldn’t fix that.” She let out an exaggerated sigh. The tripod was made out of scrap metal borrowed from the garage, and one of the legs was significantly shorter than the others. She had taped an old softball to the bottom, which evened out the height, but made another one of the legs fall right off.

Keith snorted, “You mean your fancy camera’s not a touch screen?” He did his best to wipe off the smudge he made, but judging by the brown eyes glaring hard enough to burn a hole through his skull, he was only making it worse.

“Man, are you really going to insult the camera I built when the tripod you built has fallen over 4 times in the past 10 minutes?”

“Hey! Shatt wouldn’t let me weld it, so duct tape is gonna have to do,” he snipped, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Maybe it’s because you looked Matt straight in the eyes and called him mom,” Pidge sneered, words muffled by the piece of duct tape she had between her teeth. With one final foot-long strap, she deemed the tripod good enough, and focused now on gathering her shoulder-length hair into a sloppy ponytail on the side of her head. She almost never put it in the middle. It would bother her if it was even slightly off-center, this way it was lopsided on purpose.“Alright, we’re good to go! Are you ready?” she asked.

Keith scoffed, “I’ve been ready for hours. This is a lot of prep work for a 20 minute video.”

Pidge smirked and flicked a wayward dust bunny off her not-really-step-brother’s leather jacket, “this is our first dedicated Mothman video. Don’t you think he deserves all the effort?” she turned to an old mirror in the corner and adjusted her bangs, then fixed her over sized purple top to hang off her right shoulder. It didn’t actually matter to her how she looked, but she should at least make some effort before being on camera. Which included wiping the dust off of her old blue jeans.

“You are absolutely right,” Keith conceded, following her lead and ensuring he looked presentable. It was on the warmer side in the attic, but Keith wouldn’t take off his biker jacket unless he had to, and the probably too-large rips in his jeans kept him cool enough (temperature-wise, at least. Pidge would say that he did not look ‘cool’ in the slightest). He did, however, toss his maroon beanie to the side and run a hand through his hair to ruffle it the way he liked. “Alright, let’s do this.”

* * *

 

Matt bent over the stove top, lost in thought as he emptied a box of spaghetti into a boiling pot, “You know,” he said, “I can’t believe Keith called me mom today.”

Shiro chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter and watching his best friend make dinner. He wore a black apron that read ‘CAUTION: MOM IS COOKING’ in large, glittering lavender letters, but in reality he wasn’t cooking at all. The apron was a gag gift after a few too many kitchen mishaps, so he now wore it as he stood out of the way and handed Matt whatever cooking utensils the brunette needed. “Right? I thought I was mom. When did they change it on us?” He asked, re-arranging magnet letters on the fridge so they no longer spelled the obscenities that Pidge and Keith had surely put there. Or Matt, now that he thought about it.

“Probably when you went in for bring your dad to school day and didn’t invite me, you jackass.” Matt teased, pointing a few raw noodles at the taller man accusingly.

“Put the noodles down, mop-head, I’m gonna gag if you eat another piece of raw pasta.” Shiro sighed and turned around to grab a few spices from the cabinet he knew Matt wouldn’t be able to reach, and he did indeed gag as he heard a series of loud crunches, “Oh my god, you’re disgusting!” He exclaimed, throwing a spice jar in the direction of the noise.

Matt barely caught it after a moment of juggling, and struggled to giggle without spitting a mouthful of pasta out. When his harsh crunching subsided, he handed Shiro a spoonful of red sauce. “Those were harsh words for a guy who puts chocolate sauce and mini marshmallows on pizza. Try some of this sauce, you abomination.”

“It's faster than eating a separate dessert, and I’m a busy man!” Shiro shot back, acting much more offended than he was as he accepted the spoon.

“Ooh, gotta have time to frost your tips, skunk-hair?” No sooner than the insult left his mouth, a glop of red sauce hit him in the face, splattering across his cheek and dripping down onto his shoulder. “I can’t believe you just did that,” he sputtered, “Kashi, you are the worst domestic partner for tax benefits ever. I can’t believe I signed legal documents with you. I want a divorce. I’m going to leave you for a younger, hotter fake partner. I’m gonna disconnect and hide your robo-arm while you sleep!” Matt continued on his rant of false threats, gesturing wildly and not bothering to clean the sauce that continued sliding down his face. He did, however, give Shiro a gentle whap on the head with his wooden spoon when the taller man had to grip onto the counter from laughing too hard.

While they continued their mock argument, Pidge and Keith listened just out of sight in the adjacent hallway.

“They’re so gay for each other,” Keith whispered, his ear pressed against the wall, “and they’re so clueless. What a shit show.”

Pidge snickered, “don’t you mean a SHATT show?”

Keith stared at her in momentary shock before they both melted into a fit of laughter. They had lived together with their brothers for the past two years, and though they're very different teens, they had bonded over mutual interests. Mainly conspiracy theories, becoming amateur supernatural hunters, and trying to figure out how their older brothers managed to live together, in a legal domestic partnership, taking care of a small family, and somehow not realize they’re in love with each other. Or at least, that’s their theory. One that’s joined into the many conspiracies they make videos on.

To Shiro and Matt, their relationship was purely platonic. They lived together as best friends, running their own business out of their home, watching over their younger siblings. Yes, they were technically domestic partners. For the tax benefits. Only for the tax benefits. They were both quick to point that out, with flushed faces, when it came up.

They had no idea their younger siblings referred to them as ‘Shatt’ behind their backs, and had an entire conspiracy pinboard dedicated to proving the two were in love with one another. It was fortunate neither of them followed Pidge and Keith’s Youtube channel.

They did, however, hear the two cracking up in the hallway while they were making dinner.

Shiro still clutched the countertop, catching his breath after his burst into hysterics. “Pidge! Keith!” He shouted when he had calmed down a bit, “get in here and set the table!”

The two of them grumbled as they came out of their hiding spot, one of them mumbling “Yes, mommy,” as they started grabbing dishes, but Shiro couldn’t tell which one.

Matt couldn’t tell either, but still aimed a smug, toothy grin at Shiro upon hearing it, “Guess we’re calling you mommy now.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow at him, “then am I supposed to call you daddy?” he whispered with an amused smirk.

A few feet away, Keith and Pidge blanched. Sharing a horrified glance, they silently agreed to leave that one off of their evidence board, and try to forget they heard it.


	2. A Memorable Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Pidge are huge troublemakers, but Shiro and Matt are a bit too busy tripping over their words and going out on not-a-date to stop them.  
> Some new friends are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! Where everything falls into place. Sort of. It starts to.

Keith fiddled with the elastic band on his wrist, each snap too muffled to make out over the constant, excited babbling directed towards him. The motion wasn’t out of anxiety, but rather out of habit as he struggled to concentrate. It wasn’t often he gave a plan as much thought as this one. It was more of his style to go in alone, do what needed to be done, and save thought for the heat of the moment. But this wasn’t like his experience sneaking into concerts, or out of school. This time, he wouldn’t be alone. He was still on the fence about whether or not that was a good thing.

His partner in crime was absolutely insane. Not only had she made an eighty-six page PowerPoint complete with graphics and animation, but Keith doubted she had taken a single breath during the past seventeen minutes of her explanations. He sat listening in silence, dumbstruck by the amount of effort this girl had put into something he would have dove into headfirst without a second thought. Judging by how absorbed she was in her own presentation, he imagined she had actually enjoyed the work.

Pidge had, in fact, immensely enjoyed it. She had taken the care to color code the different sections of her slideshow masterpiece, and even brought a laser pointer for her presentation. Had he seen any of it, her older brother would be proud. However, according to section four, color code aquamarine, that was strictly not going to happen.

She snapped her fingers a few times just inches away from Keith’s nose to ensure he hadn’t drifted off, “are you still listening,” she questioned, “because section four is crucial to this. Mom and dad can NOT find out about any of this.”

Mom and dad, of course, referred to their older siblings: Matt and Shiro. While those two meant well, they seriously inhibited Keith and Pidge’s efforts to do the dangerous, nonsensical things any normal teenager would try to do.

Such as trespassing into an abandoned mental asylum, scheduled to be demolished in four days time due to its structural instability, and try communicating with the ghosts haunting it. Live on YouTube, of course.

Keith rubbed his eyes before tipping his head back to stare at the cobweb-covered ceiling, “Pidge,” he mumbled, “they always find out. No matter how much planning you put into it, or how little planning I put into it.”

Pidge groaned, knowing deep down her not-really-brother was right, but that wouldn’t stop her. “Maybe this time will be different,” she reasoned, slamming her tiny fist into the palm of her other hand for emphasis, “we can’t just stop trying. I’m not giving up, and this is our last shot before they tear the building down!”

Eyes still fixed to the ceiling, tracing the path of a daddy long legs far above him, Keith sighed, “I never said we weren’t going to try. Just that we would get caught. And, it’s your turn to explain what we were thinking.”

“What?!” She shrieked, “I did it last time! It’s your turn!”

“No way, I was the one who had to explain to Shiro why we were lugging a greasy dumpster table up the stairs!”

“First of all, it was a greasy dumpster  _ desk _ , and I had to take over explaining when you were doing an awful job!”

Keith scoffed, “Well just because you decided to help me doesn’t make it my turn again! And you didn’t do any better!” He cleared his throat before continuing in a high-pitched, mocking tone, “Oh but Shiro, the gross green sludge adds character!”

“Hey!” Pidge shrieked, throwing her laser pointer squarely at the other’s forehead, “I don’t sound like that!”

* * *

 

Shiro studied himself in the mirror, holding a deep purple button-up to his chest. His brow furrowed in concentration, eyes darting between the purple shirt in one hand and the slate gray button-up he held in the other.  _ ‘Which one looks better?’  _ he wondered, unable to decide. Not that it mattered. This wasn’t a date, he reminded himself. No, this was seeing a musical and getting dinner with his best friend and sort of domestic partner he was raising two kids with. A sudden knock at the door startled him, causing him to jerk and drop the gray shirt on the floor. “Gray it is, then,” he whispered to himself before tossing the other shirt back in his closet. “Just a sec, Matt, I’m changing,” he called to the door while hurriedly dressing.

Matt, of course, came in anyways, tossing open the door and leaning against the frame, “What a rip off,” he threw a hand into the air and sighed dramatically, “you’re not even pantless! This isn’t what I didn’t pay for.”

Doing up the last button on his shirt, Shiro couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re ridiculous. You know that?” He gave himself one last check in the mirror, combing his bangs into place with his fingers and ensuring his eyeliner was even, “Are you ready? You’re never ready before me.”

The brunette in the doorway responded with a shrug, “I just didn’t want to be late to the musical.” That was only partly the truth, but Matt wasn’t about to admit that he had already set aside an outfit to wear half a week ago and set fourteen alarms to make sure he wouldn’t run late for this definitely  _ not _ a date. “Do you need more time with your guyliner? Or are you ready?” He teased.

The other man’s toothy, lopsided grin never failed to make Shiro smile. “I’m ready,” he said, meeting Matt at the doorway and leaning against the frame opposite him, “but we should check on Keith and Pidge before we go. Make sure they’re not up to something.”

“Oh, they’re totally up to something,” Matt assured him, craning his neck a bit to make eye contact at such close proximity.

A look of uncertainty spread over the taller man’s face, his smile faltering, “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Come on, let’s just let the kids have fun, mom and dad deserve a night off,” he straightened out Shiro’s shirt collar, a light blush dusting his cheekbones as he continued, “like a date night, you know?”

Both of them turned scarlet when Pidge rounded the corner of the hallway, “Gaaaaaaaay!” She shouted at them, her voice failing to muffle the distinct smack of Keith face palming behind her.

Matt took a deep breath, exhaling loudly through his nose before strolling over to his little sister, “Katie, honey, darling,” he placed his hands on either side of her face, squishing it inwards, “I can’t wait for the day you bring a date home. Because I’m going embarrass the hell out of you. So much that you’ll never get over it, and your date will have to go to therapy.”

“My dearest brother, you can’t embarrass that which has no shame,” she responded, giving him a smug grin, “but seriously, get out. Have a nice date.”

Shiro placed a hand on Matt’s shoulder, his blush having faded only slightly, “Come on you two, enough messing around. Matt, we should get going,” he turned to the two young teenagers before continuing, “Keith, Pidge, please stay out of trouble,” he pleaded, “I only have so much sanity left.”

“Just go on your date, we’ll be fine,” Keith insisted, folding his arms over his chest, “we’re not little kids.”

With a sigh, several more warnings, and no less than three threats of confiscating technology, Shiro reluctantly let himself be dragged out of the house. Which, of course, meant it was time to begin the exact activities the older man had warned against.

“Flashlights?” Pidge asked, eyes glued to a checklist written sloppily in purple crayon.

Keith shifted through the bag on his belt, then rummaged through a cartoonish-owl knapsack on the floor, “We have them both, check.”

With a nod, the brunette scribbled with her crayon, “alright. We have everything! Now we just need to-”

“Wait,” Keith interrupted, “why the hell are you using crayon?”

“You can’t stab someone with a crayon. It’s the safest writing utensil. Were you even listening to section 6, safety protocol? I color coded it red for you. I had blood splatter animations!”

“Fine, just get your helmet on and let’s go,” he said, putting his crimson red helmet on and tossing Pidge her owl-face knapsack, “and you better not fall off this time. Shatt’s going to kill me if you break another leg.”

Pidge snorted, plopping her own neon green helmet on and hopping onto the back of Keith’s motorcycle, “If you’re gonna take another sharp turn way too fast, at least make sure I lose a leg this time. I want a sweet robo-leg like Matt's, not crutches.” She gripped tightly to the back of his leather jacket, “Now come on, let’s find some ghosts!”

* * *

 

_ After a few moments of static, the picture comes into focus. The image is still rather fuzzy, and tinted green, but you see a brightly smiling girl with a rather lopsided ponytail, and an even more lopsided smile. _

“Greetings fellow Earthlings!” _ She shouts. You notice a darker haired boy behind her, who jumps at her words. _

“Pidge!” _ He whispers harshly,  _ “Keep your voice down!”

_ The girl, Pidge, sticks her tongue out at him,  _ “I’m filming, you dunderhead. They need to hear us!” _ She turns her focus back to the screen,  _ “Hey everyone! This is Pidge, and behind me is my sorta brother Keith! We’re coming to you LIVE from inside a foreclosed mental asylum,” _ She chirps excitedly. The camera pans back over to the darker haired one, Keith,  _ “Say hi, Keith!”

_ Though the image isn’t exactly high resolution, you think you can make out a faint blush on his cheeks as he shies backwards,  _ “Don’t hold the camera right in my face, we’re here to see some ghosts, not me.” _ He faces away, unzipping what appears to be a fanny pack and grabbing out a small flashlight,  _ “alright, right now we’re in what looks like the main lobby of this place.” _ He shines the flashlight off screen, but when the camera pans over you can make out an old, nearly crumbling sign on the wall caught in the beam of light,  _ “it says that there’s a staircase down the left hallway. Let’s get onto the second or third floor,” _ you hear him say. _

_ The camera whips back around to the face of the excited girl,  _ “there’s no basement in this place, but we saw some bars over the windows on the upper floors! Nothing says haunted like barred windows on an asylum room.” _ She seems to turn the camera back around, focusing on Keith’s back as they make their way down what must be a pitch-black hallway.  _

_ Thanks to the night-vision camera, you can see bits that the two filming cannot. Or at least, you assume they can’t see it. The walls are mostly bare, save for what looks to be chipped paint, a few windowless doors with illegible nameplates, but on the wall just before the staircase looks to be a large mural, maybe of a dolphin? The camera goes by too fast to tell, you’ll have to rewind later. _

“Staircase!” _ You jump at the voice, having been focusing too much on their surroundings rather than them. The camera jostles, and you hear a few light curses as the image bounces around. From what you can tell, the girl, Pidge, starts running up the stairs. _

_ You hear Keith half-whisper, half-shout  _ “Pidge! Get back here!” _ He must have the camera now, and is decidedly a much worse cameraman than the other, because your view now is mostly of his sneaker-clad feet clambering up the stairs. The stairs are awfully dirty looking, something dark was dripping down those ones. Ah, the can of exploded spray paint a few steps up is likely the source of that. You’re relieved it wasn’t blood. Or at least, you can convince yourself it wasn’t blood. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to watch this alone in the dark. _

_ Finally, the camera pans back upwards, and quickly zooms into the arms of Pidge. Keith must have tossed the camera.  _ “Don’t run off on me, we shouldn’t split up.” _ Keith says softly as the image now pans around the hallway. _

_ This hallway has windows on the doors, you think you can spot a broken one or two, and yes, you’re definitely right, there’s some shattered glass on the floor beneath those doors. The walls themselves are worse for wear, large sections of paint missing, there’s a straight up hole in the wall to their left, and- wait. The end of the hallway. What’s that over there? No! The camera pans away, back to Keith’s face. _

“Alright,” _ Pidge whispers from behind the camera,  _ “what’s our plan mister supernatural bullshit expert?”

_ Keith’s lips twitch up into a smirk as he shines his light on one of the doors with a broken window,  _ “Well, we should explore. Go door by door, and see if we can find any-”  _ he stops speaking at the sound of shattering glass followed by a groan, his eyes visibly widening,  _ “ohmygod,” _ he breathes, the mash of words barely detectable,  _ “did you just hear that?!”

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” _ the curse is long and drawn out as Pidge seems to be looking around wildly, the camera moving in quick, choppy motions. You see the end of the hallway again! Oh, but what you saw before just looks to be another mural. It’s definitely a dolphin. Or a shark? Maybe a whale. The camera stops on it,  _ “That way,” _ you hear Pidge say,  _ “It definitely came from that way.”

_ Judging by the slight bounce of the camera, the two start slowly making their way down the hall, but stop abruptly at a sharp hissing sound coming from the direction they were headed. _

“Give me back the camera,”  _ Keith demands, clearly a bit anxious,  _ “Pidge, you need to be ready to run back outside if anything goes wrong, okay? There’s definitely something up here.”

_ The image jostles a bit, and you can tell the camera was passed to the taller of the two,  _ “Keith,” _ the girl’s voice says,  _ “I’ll be fine.”

“No, you promise to run when I tell you to, or I’m going to show Shiro your sneaking out of the house PowerPoint!”

_ You hear a high pitched gasp, followed by,  _ “You monster!”  _ after a few moments of silence, and very little camera movement, you hear her grumble a reluctant  _ “Fine, I’ll run.”

_ Something definitely runs past the end of the hallway, and it’s BIG, almost too tall to be human. It pauses momentarily in view of the camera before it lets out some sort of higher-pitched shriek. The shriek ends as abruptly as it began as the figure darts out of sight.  _

_ Keith and Pidge both scream, and judging by the crashing noise, darkness, and then sudden view of the hallway at a 90 degree rotation, they ran into each other and dropped the camera. Amidst these noises, you hear a more metallic clacking noise, and see a few batteries roll past on the floor. There goes the flashlight, you guess… _

_ “RUN!” Your hear Keith yell. Pidge tries to argue with him, but he just shouts it louder. You hear her scramble to her feet and take off running- but can’t see where. _

_ You see hands hurriedly searching the floor before finding the batteries, and hear the sharp shuffling sounds of Keith trying to reload them into his flashlight. The light clicks on, and points down the hallway as the camera is clearly picked up again. But there’s nothing. There’s the sound of footsteps in the distance, but other than that it’s silen- oh no. That was Pidge. You just heard Pidge scream. It came from down the hallway! _

_ Watching this alone in the dark was definitely a bad idea. But you don’t pause it, oh no, now you have to see what happens. Good thing you have popcorn. _

 

* * *

 

 

“PIDGE!” Keith shrieked, distraught thinking of what made her scream. With the camera clutched firmly in one hand, flashlight in the other, he sprinted down the hallway, calling her name over and over. He could vaguely hear frantic whispering coming from around the corner, and didn’t hesitate to go right for it.

Immediately after rounding the corner, he smacked into something almost twice his height and fell to the ground. He called out Pidge’s name again, grasping for his flashlight and pointing it at the mass he ran into, “Where is she!?” He spat, unafraid of whatever it was, but softened upon seeing the mass was only a tall, broad teenager with dark skin and hair. The teen only screamed in response, and hearing it made Keith realize what the high pitched shriek he heard earlier was.

Right beside the large teen on the floor was a smaller boy, laying on his back, one of his legs caught on the first teen’s shoulder. “Hunk, stop screaming! It’s just some guy, not a ghost,” he said, squinting against the flashlight towards Keith, “You’re looking for a pigeon?” he asked.

Keith froze, looking around frantically upon remembering the real problem, “No, Pidge, she’s my sister, sorta, she came right this way, I heard her scream!” He groaned in pain as he got back up on his feet, “Look, I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care, but you have to help me find-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Pidge rounded the corner Keith originally came from, out of breath and panting, “Dammit,” she puffed, “First you tell me to run, then you’re yelling for me, and who are these guys?!”

“Pidge? But- I heard you scream! I came to save you!” He yelled in disbelief, there was no way that scream wasn’t her, he was sure of it.

“Well,” the skinny boy on the floor started, “you found your sister, and something in here screamed that wasn’t one of us. I think it’s time to get out of here!” He struggled to upright himself, wincing in pain and clutching his ankle, “Hey, one of you happen to have a really really large band-aid?”

“OH god,” the tallest one wailed, “oh god, that’s blood. We’re leaving!” He grabbed a nearby bag, a series of clanking noises resulting, and helped the other mystery teen back onto his shoulders, “Nice to meet you two, Pidge and whatever your name is, but we have to get out of here!”

“Wait!” Pidge shouted, grabbing the camera off the ground and pointing at them, “say hi to our live stream first!”

“You’re filming this? Oh, sick! The name’s Lance,” the boy riding the other’s shoulders gave a sly smirk as he spoke, “graffiti extraordinaire, and currently bleeding profusely!”

The larger teen gagged a bit, “Yeah, my names Hunk, and I might throw up,” he whimpered, “I was just here to take pictures of his graffiti for my photography class, now I’m ready to go home!”

Keith stared in silence and disbelief, unable to make out their appearances very well without shining the flashlight in their eyes, “you’re both idiots,” he finally managed, “but come on, the stairs are this way.” He lead the way back, stepping carefully to avoid the broken glass scattered across the ground.

Pidge followed in the back with her camera, aiming it and her flashlight at the freshly-painted murals on the wall. “Whoa,” she breathed, “you’re pretty good, Lance.” She paused on a fairly detailed painting of a skyline, done completely in sunset-like hues. Another scream sounded through the old asylum, giving the whole group goosebumps, “But we can talk art later!” she yelled, “RUN!”

The four clambered down the stairs, sticking together in a sprint until they had gotten back to the open fence at the edge of the property. They stopped together, all out of breath, relieved to be able to see better with the moonlight.

“Hey,” Lance got a better look at Keith and Pidge in the lighting, “I know you two! I follow you guys on YouTube!” He exclaimed, “your mullet is almost cute in person,” he added with a wink.

Pidge choked on her own breath as she began to laugh, “are you flirting?” she wheezed, looking to see what her not-really-brother’s reaction would be.

“Oh yeah,” Hunk confirmed, out of breath and visibly queasy as he propped himself against the fence, “he’s flirting. I should apologize for him now, he doesn’t get any better.”

Keith raised an eyebrow, staring at this ‘Lance’ boy. His hair was disheveled, his face and clothes covered in a vibrant rainbow of paint, and his pant leg splattered with blood. Yet he was still grinning from ear to ear. Immediately, Keith wanted to hate him. Instead, he extended an offer, “you want to come over and see our crazy wall?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Matt's definitely-not-a-date will be posted as a separate story in this collection for anyone interested!


	3. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The good news? Keith and Pidge's YouTube channel and friend group are growing!  
> The bad news? Shiro and Matt weren't expecting to come home to guests. Nor are they great at assessing a situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! The first bit of this story that's actually all new content and not part of the hoard! And the official end of the first part.

In the attic, along the entire wall opposite the filming green screen, was Pidge and Keith’s crazy wall. It was littered with hundreds of photos, dozens of crude sketches, and hastily scribbled notes tacked into place with UFO-shaped push pins. Connecting the various articles of evidence were an array of colored threads. Red yarn for Keith’s theories, Green yarn for Pidge’s, and within each color at least three different shades to indicate the strength of the connection the yarn represented. On the floor beneath the wall, a crate full of additional skeins of yarn. This wall was dedicated to their favorite cryptids and legends.

The separate wall dedicated to their brothers was hidden behind the green screen.

From the center of the room, Keith used his not-quite-sister’s laser pointer to present his theories to Hunk and Lance. All three of them lounged in their bean bag chairs, fully absorbed in the complete explanation of how Keith insisted he’d tracked down the Mothman’s natural habitat to a central location only spanning a six mile radius.   


In her own bean bag at the center of them all, Pidge drowned out the chatter, too focused on checking over her and Keith’s YouTube channel. “Wow,” she breathed, eyes wide beneath her glasses as she scrolled through the statistics on their latest live stream. They were… Phenomenal. There were more positive comments on this new video than their last month of videos had views. “This is already by FAR our most popular video,” she summarized for the others, who had gone silent at her words.   


Keith’s smirk morphed into a genuine smile. He hadn’t been in this for popularity, but he had to admit… It was pretty satisfying to have such a jump in their fan base. “Maybe you two should join our crew,” he suggested.   


Lance jumped on the offer, propping himself up on his elbows high enough to see Keith from his upside-down position (being upside-down would “elevate the bandaged foot, which is good!” he had claimed), “holy shit, we’re totally in!”   


Hunk placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder, gently pushing him back down into the bean bag, “I wouldn’t say totally. I don’t like ghosts, I imagine they don’t like me, and I’m not sure I’m ready to tempt fate here.”   


“Come on, dude!” Lance whined, “this is like. The coolest thing we’ve had happen to us. We ran into an actual ghost! How could you not want to be a part of that?!”   


“Is it not obvious?” Hunk deadpanned, “we ran into an actual ghost. I have some semblance of self preservation, unlike you guys,” he turned to his camera, where he browsed through the selection of pictures he had gotten just before the chance encounter. “Plus, asylums have terrible lighting. I can’t use any of these for my project,” he solemnly added.   


Pidge perked up, nearly dropping her laptop off her lap, “Oh! I know! You could take over as our cameraman!”   


“Excuse me?”   


Lance let his legs drop to one side of the bean bag before wiggling into a normal, upright position, “That’s a great idea! Hunk, you’re fantastic with a camera, and think of all the stuff you can add to your portfolio!”   


With a slouch and a sigh, Hunk at least considered it. He knew Lance would go with it regardless of whether or not he did, and part of him at least wanted to be there as a voice of reason for the three crazy teens.  That, and he did like the idea of more camera experience. And decent exposure, with a growing YouTube following…

He knew he would come to regret it, but nevertheless he relented, “all right, fine. I’ll give it a shot. But no videos on demons capable of possessing us!”

“Deal!” Pidge and Keith shouted in unison, briefly sharing skeptical squints at their own synchrony afterwards.   


Neither of them paid attention to the time, too caught up in their newfound group to remember it wouldn’t be long before their older brothers returned home.   


* * *

  
“I mean I know it’s only real married people that change their names, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do it anyways. It’s just paperwork. And if we did change them, combining is way cooler and easier than hyphening. Just think about it. Shirolt! Sholt? Shirogholte. No, that last one was bad. Oh! Holtogane!” Matt excitedly suggested, tearing his eyes from the road for a split second to glance to Shiro.   


Shiro had been listening to a constant stream of words for almost an hour. The entire drive back. The opening for him to respond caught him off guard, and he remained silent for a moment to make sure that it wasn’t just in his head. “Matt,” he finally responded, “we’re not changing our names. And if we did, we would either hyphen or you can take my name. I go by my last name to most people.”   


Matt scoffed, taking the smallest amount of offense in how easily the idea was brushed off. He had put thought into that, thank you very much. “Yeah, but if we DID change our names to Holtogane, then instead of Shiro, we can call you Holto,” he pointed out, as if it made his argument any stronger.   


“I would literally rather-” the surely witty retort stopped short as they turned onto their street, and Shiro saw what appeared to be an unfamiliar car in their driveway, “hey, who’s car is that?”   


“What?” Matt’s face scrunched up in confusion as he saw the car in question, running through the brief list of friends his “kids” had outside of each other, and of them which ones would be able to drive. None came to mind. “I have no idea. And besides, there’s no way they’d have friends over without telling us. Not after how much we bug them about making friends.”   


“Pull over up the road” Shiro insisted, paternal nerves taking root in the back of his mind, “I don’t want them to see we’re home yet. We’ll walk.”   


“Oooh, you want to catch them in the act, don’t you?” Matt realized as he followed orders, parking a ways down the road. He wasn’t much for parental instinct, but his protective big-brother mode had started to kick in at the thought of the kids inviting someone over in secret, “come on, let’s ground some kids.”   


They snuck down the street in silence, staying close together in the shadows until they reached the driveway and came to an abrupt halt.   
Shiro stared, breathless and unmoving at the splotchy red trail leading to their front door. Originating from a car, an old blue PT Cruiser, parked in their driveway. He had never seen that car before. He had no idea who’s blood this was. He hadn’t spoken to Keith or Pidge since he’d left them, hours earlier. He clutched tightly onto Matt’s shoulder, an iron grip that made the other man curse, but the sound didn’t even register in Shiro’s mind. He looked to Matt with wide, unblinking eyes, “Matt… If they’re alive. I’m going to kill them both.”   


Matt replied with a shaky nod, forcing himself to look away from the scarlet stains on their walkway and nervously shift his eyes to the door. Blood on the handle. “Oh god,” he breathed, “oh god, Shiro, someone’s definitely in there with them.” He quickly scanned the windows of the house. Only the attic lights were on.   


The two shared another terrified glance, nodding as they wordlessly agreed on their next step. They hastened to the garage, slipping into the side door as silently as possible to get into their shared workshop. Matt followed his first instinct and grabbed one of his latest personal hobby projects. What used to be a Nerf gun, he had gutted and turned into the world’s most innocent looking flame thrower. As soon as he had picked it up, he received a light smack to the back of the head and heard a harshly whispered “put that damn thing down!”

Reluctantly, he obliged, and instead grabbed the first object he could properly weaponize without risk of burning down their house, which happened to be approximately a meter and a half of aluminum round stock. He’d seen enough anime to be able to use a makeshift staff, right? Right. He had even mained a monk for three years on World of Warcraft. It couldn’t be that hard to whack things.

Shiro paused to give Matt an extremely incredulous glare before making his way towards the door to the rest of the house, snatching the fire extinguisher off the wall as he passed it.

That was… actually a good choice of improvised weapon, Matt decided as he followed closely behind.

They crept soundlessly through the house, making their way to the stairs and gently making the climb, hugging the wall to avoid any creaks in the old wooden steps.

As they reached the attic door, they both hugged to the wall just beside the door. They could hear voices, two male voices they didn’t recognize. They couldn’t make out any of the words.

They needed a plan.   


Shiro took a minute to consider the situation. The fire extinguisher would provide cover, enough to confuse the men in there so he and Matt could get the edge on the situation. He could use the fire extinguisher to bludgeon, if the need arose. He seriously questioned Matt’s usefulness with the metal pole, and would likely have to protect him from hurting himself or being hurt by their intruders.   
The best course of action, to him, would be for the both of them to enter together as inconspicuous as possible, Matt just behind Shiro, and for Shiro to lay down cover for them if needed. Surprise was key to this. They had to see the full situation before it saw them.

Now, he had to silently convey that to Matt.   


After waving to get his attention, Shiro pointed at Matt, then brought the hand around in a swooping motion to behind him before pointing to himself. He then held his left hand up in a “stop” motion, while his right hand flashed 3 fingers, then two, then one, then quickly pointed to the both of them, and then with both hands pointed to the door, followed by a shushing motion. Lastly, he picked up the fire extinguisher back up, and motioned with the nozzle as if he were spraying it back and forth. He ended with a questioning thumbs up.   


Matt watched intently eyes tracing every movement. As soon as Shiro had finished the gestures, he took a step back, and thrust his full weight into the heel of his foot as he kicked the door in. The door that was not locked, nor even closed all the way. Matt jumped through the doorway as the door collided into the wall hard enough to collapse a section of drywall, and yelled, “FREEZE, FUCKERS!”   


Shiro’s mouth opened in a silent scream. That was not the plan. That was not even CLOSE to the plan. But nevertheless, he rushed in beside Matt, wielding the fire extinguisher in front of him. He sprayed a dense cloud of it into the room, yelling “WHAT DID YOU DO TO OUR KIDS?!” over the blood curdling screams of four teenagers.   


The screams all faded into a hectic mass of coughing and obscenities, the four teens swatting the air to try and clear the cloud from the extinguisher.   


Pidge was the first to make sense of what was happening, and realize that somehow, her older brother and his “domestic partner” got it in their heads that there was a hostage situation going on. She glared daggers into them both, “what the hell you two?!  We just have friends over!! No one did anything to us! You just broke the fucking wall!”   


“Who’s blood is everywhere!?” Shiro barked over the remains of the chaos, he and Matt still posed and ready to strike if need be. As the cloud settled, he re-assessed the scene. There was no one hostile, no weapons, no blood. Just four teenagers, sitting/laying across bean bag chairs around a laptop. He didn’t recognize the two new boys, but one of them had a mass of poorly wrapped bandages around his foot and lower leg, and Keith and Pidge both appeared to be completely unharmed. He relaxed a little upon realizing his little siblings/children were okay, but still didn’t like the idea of them inviting friends over when no one was home to supervise. Especially friends he had never met.   


A nearly identical train of thought ran through Matt’s mind as he lowered the metal pole and bombarded them with questions, “and who said you could have boys over?! Who are they? Is that one’s foot okay? You could have called!”   


Silence hung thick in the air as the four teens wondered how to explain the situation without further implicating themselves.   


It was Hunk, sitting up straight in his bean bag chair with his arms raised in surrender, who spoke first. “Hello, uh, I’m Hunk. And the guy with the messed up foot is Lance. And… we...” He trailed off, not wanting to lie to the two men, but not exactly willing to tell the truth about trespassing and being scared off by a ghost.   


Lance jumped in to save him, “we know Keith and Pidge from school! We were just… helping them with a YouTube video?” He claimed, and though it wasn’t far from the truth, it sounded too much like a question to avoid suspicion.   


It was decidedly Hunk’s turn to again try to save the situation, and before the adults could call out Lance, he asked “so, you two are Pidge and Keith’s dads, right?” It seemed a safe assumption to make. After all, Shiro had referred to them as their children.   


Pidge and Keith both snorted, stifling laughter as their older brothers’ faces reddened. This was decidedly worth the grounding they were both undoubtedly going to get.   


Shiro and Matt shared a shy glance, sighing in combination of relief at the de-escalated situation, embarrassment at once again being mistaken for fathers, and annoyance at having to explain their little family for the second time that night.   


Matt figured it was his turn, and looked to the new teens, “listen, I know Shiro’s got some white hair, but I for one clearly look too young to be a dad of teens. We’re their older brothers. But that’s beside the point!” His tone softened as he looked at Lance’s foot with more concern, “is it your blood that’s everywhere? Dude, what the fuck did you do?”   


“I broke a window! With my foot.” Lance chirped, wincing as he held his damaged leg up for some sort of emphasis, “we got all the glass out of it, I think. My sister’s a nurse, so she’ll look at it later.” When he looked up at the horrified faces of the two older brothers, he added on, “don’t worry. Not one of your windows!”   


“That’s… Not at all what I was worried about,” Shiro muttered, shaking his head, “You know what? Pidge. Keith. I think it’s time your friends head out. You can talk to them at school on Monday.”   


All four of the teens grumbled in complaint, but the stern look of Fatherly Disapproval™ Shiro aimed towards them was enough convincing for Lance and Hunk to pull themselves up and mumble hasty goodbyes.   


Matt placed a hand on each of their shoulders as he ushered them to the stairwell, “I’ll walk you two boys out,” he tightened his grip to be just this side of painful, “and while we walk, I can tell you all about the handheld, high powered laser cutter I finished building a few days ago, and would love to test out on anyone who hurts my little baby sister or darling baby brother!”   


Pidge and Keith both audibly sighed at the pleading looks they received before their new friends disappeared out of sight and earshot with Matt. As absolute silence fell, sickening dread crept into the hearts of the remaining teens. Shiro remained frighteningly quiet as he glared at them.   


After another minute of thick silence, his voice made the two jolt. “Downstairs. Now,” he demanded, “we’re going to have a talk.”   


Neither of them tried to argue a tone like that, instead springing to their feet and racing to the stairwell, Pidge going so far as to push Keith out of the way to be the first one down. Keith retaliated with a vengeful tug on her ponytail, before Shiro hollered “knock it off you two! You’re in enough trouble!”   


He directed both of the teens to the living room sofa, and gave them one more rigid glare, “I’m going to talk to Matt. You two sit still, and think about what you have to say for yourselves. Got it?”   


“Yes, dad,” one of them whispered, but with the both of them staring straight down into their laps, it was impossible to tell which.   


“Don’t _DAD_ me right now,” Shiro shot back, and despite how fatherly it would make him sound, added on an: “I’m very disappointed in you two!” before marching off into the kitchen.   


Matt sat atop the counter, waiting with folded arms and a rather unimpressed look, “okay, so, first things first. You gotta take it down a notch. The drill sergeant thing is kinda hot, but we need dad mode here, not military mode.”   


“Matt, I-” Shiro’s voice stopped when his mind finished processing what had just been said. He flushed, forgetting the words he had started to say, “what?”   


“Hey, you can kink shame me all you want,” Matt replied, holding his hands up in mock surrender, “but-”   


Shiro shook his head, chasing the thought away and focusing on the matter at hand. “Oh my god. Please be serious for two minutes,” he begged. “Are we not doing good cop bad cop here?”   


“Oh! That’s what you’re doing? Hmm,” he hummed as he thought it over, “I mean, these are kids, not criminals, I don’t think good cop bad cop is a valid parenting strategy.” He then thought of the trail of blood they had found, the ache in his chest the scare had caused, and reconsidered his stance. “You know what? We’re totally doing it anyways, and next time I get to be the bad cop. Let’s go.” He hopped off the counter, stumbling for a moment before swiftly pacing into the living room as if he didn’t nearly trip.   


“Matt!” Shiro reached out to grab the other man’s shoulder and pull him back, but was too late to stop him. So much for discussing anything relevant. He took a deep breath, holding it in as long as he could while staring at the ceiling. They were not cut out for fatherhood. That much was clear to him. He forced himself to trudge back into the living room, finding Matt had taken a seat between Keith and Pidge and had his arms around both of their shoulders.   


“Alright, kiddos. Let’s talk about this,” Matt soothed, both of the teens visibly calmer but remaining somewhat on edge. He turned to Pidge, smirking down at his little sister, “do you like-like one of those boys?”   


Shiro buried his face in his hands and suppressed a scream. They were definitely not cut out for fatherhood. He solemnly resolved to just ground the kids for a flat two weeks after Matt was done with whatever the man thought good cop was.   


Pidge scoffed, trying to wiggle away from the arm keeping her in a close side hug, “really, Matt? Oh my god. For the record, I don’t like any boys.”   


Matt refused to let her escape, removing his arm from Keith to be able to ruffle his sister’s hair, “whoa, are you going to be the one person in this house to like girls? Look at you go!” He proudly cheered, seeming to forget the part where he was supposed to be scolding the teenagers.   


She swatted at him, breaking free and scooting to the far side of the couch, “knock it off you nerd, I haven’t figured it out yet. I’ll get back to you.” She grinned wickedly at Keith, devising a way to get the attention off of herself. “Keith is totally crushing on the one with the broken foot, though.”   


The plan worked flawlessly as Matt’s eyes lit up with a gasp at the latest gossip.   


“Pidge!!” Keith snarled, grabbing at the nearest pillow to throw it at her, “what the hell!”   


Pidge held her arms out in front of her to block the blow, “oh come on! Like the first thing he did was flirt with you! And you invited him over! Then told me you think he’s cute!” She dodged a second pillow, sticking her tongue out before the third hit her squarely in the face.   


Shiro’s jaw clenched. Absolutely no way he was letting his little brother hang out with a window-kicking troublemaker alone. Especially not one he had a crush on. “That’s it, broken-foot boy isn’t allowed over here when I’m not here!” He announced, “and no closed doors either when he’s over!”   


Keith’s face turned an awful shade of scarlet. “OH my god, he’s just a friend,” he sputtered defensively, “MAYBE I think he’s cute, but I barely know him! What do you think is going to happen?!”   


Pidge placed a hand over her heart, and gave her not-quite-brother the most sincere look she could manage, “he’s just worried about you, Keith. You might get knocked up. Teen pregnancy isn’t a joke.”   


“PIDGE!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is more. God, there is so much more planned for this.  
> But as always thank you for reading! <3 You guys are the best, and are fully welcome to come talk to me on my [Tumblr](http://lureavi.tumblr.com/) :D

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3 Totally come at me with questions if anything is unclear, it's hard knowing the perspective of someone new when the only people who have read this spent hours pouring over countless details that haven't all been put in yet.


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